


Not to Assume

by Zenniet



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Cunnilingus, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rutting, Sticky, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Teasing, Tribadism, Valve Oral (Transformers), kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zenniet/pseuds/Zenniet
Summary: Magnus will never assume anything of Optimus. Optimus both loves and despises this fact.
Relationships: Optimus Prime/Ultra Magnus
Comments: 3
Kudos: 48





	Not to Assume

“Unless you ask, I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you, my Prime.” Magnus purred, pressing another kiss to Optimus’ neck cabling. He’d been teasing him for far too long, the heady, intoxicating scent of Optimus’ lubricant hanging heavy in the air. The rich reactions that he received from Optimus were more than enough of a motivating factor to keep doing as he is and not give Optimus any more than he already is receiving.

“Unf- Magnus,” Optimus husked, his voice low and shaking. His face was deeply flushed, his whole frame barely shivered and his EM field was all too eager to grab onto Magnus’ and try to drag him into the same state as he. And yet, Optimus couldn’t bring himself to ask anything more of his partner. How could he, when Magnus was already _always_ so kind to him?

“What was that, my Prime?” Magnus hummed, pausing his endeavors to let his frame relax and his helm rest on Optimus’ chest, optics scrutinizing his flustered expression. “Did you say something?”

Those bright blue optics looking up at him had Optimus frozen, not that he would have fared any better had Magnus not been staring at him. His circuits felt like they were about to fry with all the charge that was coursing through him, yet he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. To ask for anything. His powerful frame antagonized him in response, sending another ping to his processor, requesting that he open his panels to alleviate the pressure that was building behind them.

“N-No,” Optimus muttered, turning his helm. The expression that crossed Magnus’ face was not quite readable. Some kind of mix of fed up and entertained.

“Do you not want this, Optimus?” He asked, knowing the answer long before the words left his vocalizer.

“Of course I do,” Optimus responded far quicker than he had been the rest of the night. He was willing to say at least that, if it meant that this wouldn’t be stopping.

“Then tell me what you would like me to do.” With that, Magnus dropped a heavy servo to grope at Optimus’ still shut valve plating. Lubricant was already welling up and leaking out from the seams, showing off how much Magnus was getting to him. Magnus prodded and stroked almost carelessly at the thin piece of metal, and Optimus was so charged up that he could have overloaded from that alone. But he didn’t, because there was no way he was going to appear _that_ desperate.

“I’ll give you whatever you want, Optimus, you just have to tell me.” Magnus’ claw held onto Optimus’ waist and he lowered himself to nestle his helm between Optimus’ knees.

“You are aware of what I want.” Optimus tried to keep all the shaking out of his voice, to no avail.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“P-please, Magnus,” For, surprisingly, the first time that night Optimus’ voice dropped into a whine. His insides were hot with his charge, he felt like he was about to explode. He just couldn’t take it anymore. “Do anything you want with me, please.”

“This _is _what I want to do, though.”

“Touch me, please Magnus.” Optimus barely got the words out.

“I _am_ touching you.”

“My-“ Optimus just couldn’t bring himself to say it. “_Magnus_.”

“Fine. I suppose I’ve teased you enough for the night, then.” His claw held onto the leg that he was leaning his helm against, “Open up for me.”

Optimus more than eagerly popped his panels. A shiver wracked his frame at the sudden sensation of the cool air against his sore, swollen valve and erect spike. Lubricant flooded out onto the berth beneath his hips.

“Beautiful, as always.” Magnus rested his servo on top of Optimus’ pelvic plating, his thumb idly parting his dark gray folds to catch a glimpse of his bright red, pulsing anterior node, slick with his lubricant. Optimus trembled and arched into that touch, hips and spike twitching.

Magnus leaned down, olfactory sensors picking up on the scent of Optimus’ lubricant, before bringing his lips to his valve. His servo took Optimus’ spike, stroking it slowly in time with his lazy licks along the soft valve pleats.

“Magnus,” Optimus gasped, his servo resting on top of Magnus’ helm, digits idly playing with his finials. “I-I’m close already,” He was embarrassed to admit, but he knew that this was probably the result that Magnus was looking for anyways.

“Of course you are,” He liked his lips, “So much teasing will do that.”

Be he didn’t stop, he didn’t give Optimus a moment to catch his breath. He dove back down and redoubled his efforts, glossa laving around his anterior node, his servo picking up the pace along his spike.

Optimus clenched his dentae and rutted against Magnus’ face, too close to his climax to really care about what a picture he must make. His engine whined, his cooling fans gave up and his grip on Magnus’ helm tightened. Finally, _finally_, the charge inside him snapped. His helm fell back and he arched up off the berth, vocalizer giving a static laced shout as his finally hit his climax.

His spike throbbed in Magnus’ grip, thick ropes of transfluid splattering heavy across Optimus’ chest and pooling at the dip in his abdominal plating. His valve fluttered around Magnus’ glossa and likewise coated his lips and chin in his lubricant. Optimus’ charge rushed through his circuits in a race to uncage itself from his frame at long last.

When his body finally let him relax, he flopped back down onto the berth, exhausted and just a little bit overwhelmed. His processor was still spinning.

“How was that?” Magnus asked, his digit swiping through the splotch of lubricant on his face and bringing it to his mouth. Acting like that was going to get Optimus charged up all over again, and he wasn’t sure that he could take all that teasing again.

“You-“ Optimus panted, “You didn’t overload. Did you?” He couldn’t let Magnus remain unsatisfied after giving him an overload that made it feel like his circuitry was going to fry.

“No, but that’s fine.” Magnus said with a carefree wave of his dirty servo to brush him off. Optimus had never seen Magnus more untroubled than when he had just taken Optimus to his berth.

“Please, Magnus, let me do something for you.” Optimus said, leaning up and propping himself up on his elbows. “Please.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, my Prime.” Magnus purred, his voice like that almost enough to convince Optimus to take him up on that. Yet, he persisted.

“Come here.”

Magnus leaned in, curious though still convinced that he’d be able to walk out of this on legs that didn’t shake.

Optimus kissed him, long and slow and sensual. No rush, just taking the time to experience each other. He knew that Magnus was weak to kisses like that. Within seconds, Magnus was reluctantly disengaging his spike panel.

“I want your valve.” Optimus took a break from the kiss to say the most lewd thing he’d said all night. Magnus complied, popping his valve panel as well.

Optimus wordlessly maneuvered him, shifting and positioning their frames until they were more or less a tangle of metal limbs and overheating plating, Magnus’ leg thrown over one of Optimus’ hips, and the other mech the same in turn, their valves pressing flush.

“Y-you’re so _wet,_” Magnus growled, deriving a deep, dark pleasure in knowing that _he_ was the one to have caused that. “I’m surprised that you’re the one to suggest this, too.”

“I- mmgh- you make me feel too good for me to not at least t-try to return the favor.” He punctuated with a slow roll of his hips that elicited a low moan from each of them. Magnus’ engine rumbled, a deep, possessive growl that completely took over the cacophony of sounds that their frames were making with each rock of their hips.

He rarely used his valve, just because he knew that Optimus mostly preferred to be the one getting spiked, and in his memory he had only done something like this once before and it didn’t feel nearly as good. He couldn’t place why this time was so much more pleasurable, whether it be that he was doing something different, like in the tilt of his hips or which leg was slung over Optimus’ hip. Or, more likely the case, it was something in his processor, in his _spark_ that was different. He had never felt as connected to and as close to a mech as he did with Optimus. That was it. That was definitely the factor that has his circuits shorting and his charge rising.

“_Optimus_,” He huffed, his voice lacking the depth and command that it usually held. Optimus had never seen him reduced to such a state, the state in which Optimus found himself in every time he was beneath Magnus.

Very quickly, the crux of their thighs became drenched in lubricant and they both found themselves drawing nearer to their overloads. Magnus growled and gripped at the berthsheets, intensifying his efforts and pushing harder against Optimus with every rut. Magnus’ lips parted, his helm tucked into his chest with the curve of his spine, his lips flushed. He knew that he was fast approaching his overload. He could tell that Optimus was, too, from the neediness and erraticism of his EM field.

Magnus misjudged the angle and timing just a bit, his anterior node catching against the top ridge of the plating that framed Optimus’ valve. He yelped and flung his head back, his charge immediately snapping and racing through his shuddering frame as he was hurtled into his overload. His hips stuttered in their pace and changed their hurried gliding to short, shaking little ruts against Optimus, who fell into his climax a moment later.

The two of them fell back against the berth, panting and tired. Magnus’ helm lolled off the foot of the berth, coaxing him to spin so he could be right side up with Optimus. As soon as he was, the Prime snuggled up to his chest, despite his frame being much bigger than the other’s. It was something Optimus always did after interfacing. He craved the closeness and protectiveness that Magnus gave him, that other mechs would have assumed he didn’t want just because of his status as a Prime. That was the thing about Magnus, he rarely assumed anything. Optimus both loved and despised that about him.

And as long as it continued to get such reactions out of Optimus, Magnus would continue to not assume.

**Author's Note:**

> Done as a request! Find out how to request stuff from me [here!](https://zenniet.tumblr.com/post/189864077750/how-to-request)


End file.
